Colours of My Sky
by Keiran
Summary: Finished A bodyguard duty forces the infamous Preventer duet to cause mayhem in the National Theatre. In order to make up for the trouble, the commander of the peacekeeping force leases the two to the theatre. 1x2x1, Rplus1, fluff
1. Rehearsals

Author: Keiran  
Title: Colours of My Sky 1/2  
Song Title and Artist: "Tokyo" Varius Manx  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: shounen-ai, slight Relena-bashing. Should be 'murdering Shakespeare' as well, but my Heero **was** Shakespeare in a past life.  
Pairings/Characters: 1+2+1, R+1  
Genre: Humour, romance-ish with a ending fluffy like a bunny's tail.  
Summary: A Preventers' story. A bodyguard duty forces the infamous Preventer duet to cause some mayhem in the National Theatre. In order to make up for the trouble, the commander of the peace-keeping force leases the troublesome two to the theatre's caretaker and chief director.  
AN: Written for the Vault's Songfic Challenge.

Thanks to Shenlong Deb, for betaing!

xxxXXXxxx

"… and that's largely it, for today," Commander Une said, returning a file to her desk. "Dismissed." The group of agents made for the door; two of the men, however, didn't quite make it. "Yuy, Maxwell, a word with you, if you please." Throwing a slightly panicked look at their friends, the two stayed inside, the door closing behind them.

"I wonder what they did this time," Wufei muttered. "I think there's a wide range of possibilities here," Zechs said, nodding a little. "Could be the trashing they gave the recent batch of newbies."

"They massacred the newbies **again**?" Quatre's eyes opened wide. "I thought we talked it out! They were not to approach the training gym if there's even one recruit in there!"

"They didn't – per se. They just had one of their training sessions right before Noin brought in the first group. As you can imagine, half of the kids resigned on sight. They were murmuring something about trying their luck in PD's homicide department and that it should be safer," the tall-and-blonde said shrugging.

"They hoisted the scores on flight simulators earlier this week," Trowa put in. "Or rather Maxwell did, with Yuy egging him on."

"And I was wondering why so many people were moaning about their results," Quatre moaned, covering his eyes. "No wonder, if Duo go his hands on the controls…"

"Could also be the amount of sick-leaves the special operatives group they're training demands. They are driving them into the ground, up to their ears," Trowa nodded wisely.

"Who needs crime, when we have Maxwell and Yuy in the Preventers?" Wufei asked rhetorically. However, almost immediately his brow furrowed. "I still wonder what has happened to Yuy though. He used to be such a no-nonsense, practical, down to earth guy. Ever since he started living with Maxwell, he's been getting into so much trouble!"

"Oh, stop it Wufei. You know they don't mean to," Quatre said, trying to placate his irate friend. "Maybe he was always like that, only he didn't show it?"

xxxXXXxxx

Meanwhile, the two agents in question stared evenly out of the window in Une's office, a foot or so over and to the left of their commander's head. Finally, the woman sighed heavily.

"Would you please explain to me why you found it necessary to damage the interior of the National Theatre so badly?"

"It wasn't our fault ma'am," Heero replied calmly, his eyes never leaving the opposite rooftop. Lady Une raised a brow.

"Do tell."

"We didn't open fire, ma'am, until they did," Duo replied calmly. "As for the chandelier in the foyer – I am sorry about that. I really needed to get to the other side fast. Besides, we stopped the bad guys, didn't we?"

"That you did…" Une hesitated for a moment, then a positively wicked smile graced her features. Neither agent noticed, as she was looking down at her desk while they contemplated the rooftops outside. "What I have here," she began raising a piece of paper, "is a letter from Sir William Henslow, the caretaker and chief director of the theatre." She noted with some pleasure the uncomfortableness that seemed to suddenly spread throughout the room.

"Does he demand that we be flayed and roasted over an open fire?" Duo asked, a little hesitantly.

"Not exactly. He asks whether I'd be kind enough to, and I quote, 'lease the two agents for an indefinite period of time'."

Silence filled the spacious room. Finally Duo coughed.

"Did he imply that any variety of skinning, flaying or being burnt alive would take place?"

"Did I imply you have a choice?" the lady-in-command shot back good-naturedly. Hearing no protests, she quickly fished two forms from the pile of files on her desk. "I took the liberty of filling these forms out for you. You have a vast amount of vacation piled up, and since I heard of no personal plans from you, you are now officially on vacation. Please sign here." Collecting the forms, the duo slowly turned to leave the office. "Sir Henslow is expecting you tomorrow at noon in the theatre," Une added seriously. "Do not be late."

Once the two were gone, she collapsed in a fit of giggles. She didn't know whether to sympathize with Henslow, Maxwell and Yuy, or to laugh helplessly. Neither had any idea whatsoever what they were in for. Still, she did phone the director with a direct warning. Whatever happens, it'll be his fault if he didn't heed it. Picking up the letter once again, she scanned through it once more.

Collapsing back into her chair, she kept on giggling until she ran out of breath.

xxxXXXxxx

A loud yell of 'WHAAAAT?' delivered in perfect unison shook the old building. The cast of 'Romeo and Juliet' scattered across the scene. Only the director stood unperturbed.

"You, gentlemen, are going to be the pillar of our show," he repeated calmly. "I'm sure I already mentioned that the profits will go to charity?" he added quickly, seeing the longhaired one open his mouth again. 'Ah, thank you, Lady Une. I think I shall manage them quite well.'

"We open in one month exactly. Now, since your thrilling performance the last time – no, Mr Maxwell, I have not forgotten about the chandelier – I have decided you two shall make a most welcome addition to the play."

"Well, that shouldn't be too bad," Duo said slowly. "Do we play the fighting servants in the beginning?"

"No…" the director shook his head. "Although fighting is involved."

"I should think so," Heero snorted. Duo hushed him quickly.

"Where is the catch then?" he asked.

"That depends what do you define as 'catch', Mr Maxwell," the older man cut in smoothly. "Reviewing your… performance, shall we say, I decided I have the perfect part for you."

"That is?…" the violet eyes bore into the director imploringly, while the blue ones egged them on.

"You shall be playing Mercutio." Duo stood gaping for a few seconds. Then he smacked the back of his hand to his forehead and executed a perfect faint, landing squarely in Heero's arms.

"Are you fucking serious!"

"Yes, I am. I am very serious."

It turned out that he really was – the rehearsals started straight away. "See, it's like this," the director explained to 'Juliet', who questioned the wisdom of hiring two Gundam pilots/Preventers to play the main parts, no less. "I have been thinking about the show for a while now, but I had no Mercutio and no Romeo. I don't even know which is worse. You know we need **something** to make the show memorable. There's been everything and then some said in and about this play." He hesitated for a brief second. "That, and the fact that I believe these two will draw in the audience like mad! If only to shoot at them. But, since the building is listed as a monument, we have an almost unlimited policy."

"But can they actually **act**?" Asked the 20 year-old Academy Award Winner of 203 A.C.

Duo chose this exact moment to waltz across the stage, quite literally, with a slight bounce in his step. "True, I talk of dreams which are children of an idle brain, begot of nothing but vain fantasy," he delivered, waving his arm at 'Romeo', who was lounging on the desks with a morose expression on his face. The monologue went on, like the rest of the play enriched by a few contemporary ideas and brought to life by Maxwell's superbly exuberant acting.

"Never mind that," Juliet, whose name was actually Judy, said in something akin to awe. "They are good. That was a stroke of genius, William."

"You haven't heard his 'Anger not the God of Death' monologue," the man replied kindly. "Kid has a screw or two loose in his skull, so naturally, I immediately thought of giving him the part." The man nodded wisely, sounding for all intents and purposes like he was fifty and not thirty six. But yes, it was a stroke of genius," he added proudly.

Famous last words.

xxxXXXxxx

The days passed slowly. Heero, to the utmost surprise of everyone he knew, with the possible exception for Duo, turned out to be an – interesting Romeo. Never mind the coronary he almost gave the poor director, when he decided that the character demanded spicing up and insisted that his version of Romeo be introduced in bed with a random partner and that he would make out with at least two people during the grand ball. It took a long time for poor Mr Henslow to get over the butchering of Shakespeare, but eventually he had given in.

"And here I was hoping that this time I will actually surprise the critics with a neoclassical interpretation," William Henslow, known best for his chain-smoking Hamlet and rock-and-rolling Oedipus, said to himself mournfully.

"Heero – if you wanted someone to make out with **that** badly, I'm sure Relena would have been on top of you sooner than you'd mentioned it," Duo whispered softly, looking at the slumped shoulders of the departing director. 'Romeo' snorted.

"I just thought this Romeo person needed a little spite. He is seducing a fourteen year old girl! There are laws against that, you know? Plus, seriously, the only time in the play he actually shows some character, besides the paedophile bit, is when Tybalt kills Mercutio. As for William – he'll get over it."

"You have this thought out in detail, haven't you?" Duo asked, disbelief dripping from his words. "Well, whatever really. We are sure to make a splash anyway. And should anything go wrong, we'll make gobs of money, cause everyone will want to see Big Bad Preventers on the stage. And I don't blame them really. It gives them a perfect target."

"You think I should have mined the theatre?"

"And leave a message 'Bomb in the building. You shoot at me, I blow right back' on the poster?" Duo asked, one of his brows in a perfect arch over a violet eye.

"Hadn't thought about a poster yet, but it is an idea," Preventer agent Wing said.

"Point duly noted," agent Scythe drawled. "Shall I go and start up the printers?"

"Wait for the premiere."

xxxXXXxxx

Nobody knew exactly how Relena came across the information that Heero was one of the two Gundam pilots who were advertised all over the Earth Sphere and the colonies as the 'main event of the Sanq's culture days, starring in a fundraising production of _Romeo and Juliet_ , which is sure to thrill audiences worldwide'. Nobody knew where in her busy schedule did she find the time to pop in, unannounced, to the modest apartment the two agents shared.

"Heero!" she exclaimed, walking straight in through the door, past a little dazed Duo, who shook his head whilst closing the door. Poor girl was in for a shock, he thought, grinning. Heero took the Romeo-the-slut thing rather seriously.

"Relena," the man replied with a roll of his eyes. "What do you want?"

"I wanted to tell you that I'm very proud of you," she said solemnly. "Getting over your dislike of public appearances to play such a romantic character… I knew you would do it, one day. I was hoping I could be there to watch you come out of your shell and…"

Fifteen minutes later Duo, delicately but firmly holding the Vice-Minister's elbow, led her out of the apartment, explaining that Heero falling asleep was not a sign of rudeness acquired from himself, but merely the strain of a long day finally catching up to him. No harm intended.

"Have a good night Relena," he said in parting. "We shall see you tomorrow, at the reception after the premiere," he added knowing perfectly well that as a Sanquian princess she would have gotten one of the first invitations.

"I hope you're happy now," he said walking back into the living room. "She is convinced I am a rude lowlife that evolved in the dumpster and crawled into the human race through the backdoor."

"And she's a rude highlife, which evolved in silks and feathers and crawled into the human race through the roof. What's your point?" Heero shot back, all traces of sleepiness forgotten.

"I am starting to see her point, you know. I'm having a bad influence on you." Unexpectedly, Heero grinned.

"Not really, no. One can hardly blame the lens for the light's refraction, after all."

**TBC**


	2. Premiere

Author: Keiran  
Title: Colours of My Sky 2/2  
Song Title and Artist: "Tokyo" Varius Manx  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: shounen-ai, slight Relena-bashing. Should be 'murdering Shakespeare' as well, but my Heero **was** Shakespeare in a past life.  
Pairings: 1+2+1, R+1  
Genre: Humour, romance-ish with a ending fluffy like a bunny's tail.

Summary: A Preventers' story. A bodyguard duty forces the infamous Preventer duet to cause some mayhem in the National Theatre. In order to make up for the trouble, the commander of the peace-keeping force leases the troublesome two to the theatre's caretaker and chief director.  
Fandom: Gundam Wing

Thanks to Shenlong Deb, for betaing!

xxxXXXxxx

Finally, the premiere night arrived, with all the hustle and bustle a 'most important cultural event of the year' is expected to cause. Everyone who meant anything in Sanq simply had to have a ticket for the anticipated thrilling performance of two widely known Gundam pilots, who had rarely stayed from newspapers' headlines.

Duo found himself perched on a rail high above the stage, in virtually the only place that still offered peace and quiet in the ancient building. That, as well as a strange thrill in the knowledge that his fellow actors were all on the verge of having heart attacks, seeing him so high up with no cords to break his fall. All except Heero, that is. Heero was, most unlike himself, not aiding his partner in helping people get medical help, but sitting with a calming cup of tea in front of his Juliet, lost in discussion.

At seven pm the lights in the audience went dim. The curtains rose. It was time to begin.

"A my word, we'll not carry coals!"

The play went on without a hitch. Mercutio's passionate Queen Mab impressions gathered a thundering roar of approval from the aristocratic audience. Romeo's less enthusiastic, but still profound, performance won a considerable amount of appreciation as well. The events raced until finally reaching the high point – the vicious cycle of fights between Tybalt, Romeo and Mercutio.

Just as the latter met his death in the arms of his best friend and was carried limp off stage, the director felt a sudden surge of unease. He tried to dismiss it, but… Something didn't sit quite right with him. Something had been wrong. But no – the Prince had entered and left, the banishment had been announced – nothing could go wrong now, could it?

As the balcony scene drew to a close, Duo's elbow was suddenly grabbed.

"Are you ready?" he heard Benvolio hiss in his ear.

"What? I've just died!"

"Then you know your part. Now play dead!" The next thing Duo knew, he was scooped up in the bigger man's arms and carried out into the bright neon light. Barely having a chance to react, his eyes closed instinctively, his whole body going limp. 'Well. If anything is wrong, there's no way they're blaming me for it,' he thought. 'I am dead, after all.'

"Romeo," the unfortunate clueless Mercutio heard two feet above his chest. He felt he was being passed into arms he immediately recognized as Heero's. His mind was invaded by the dancing W, T and F letters, circling each other and changing colours.

In the audience William Henslow held his breath.

"Ah, dear Mercutio," Heero began mournfully. "Why art thou yet so faire? I will believe; shall I believe, that unsubstantial death is amorous? And that the lean abhorred Monster keeps thee here in dark to be his Paramour?" Duo's mind was completely taken over by the WTF factor by now. Like a drowning man he held to one last shred of sanity he still possessed.

'Whatever is going on, **it's not my fault**'

Heero continued waxing poetry over the 'body' he held tightly in his arms, kneeling in the middle of the brightly-lit stage. He made an effort not to look at the audience, which, as he was aware, was breathlessly watching the stage, even those that he knew for a fact wouldn't know Shakespeare if he got up and danced naked in front of them. Even the aristocrats who, he knew perfectly well, had the attention span of a goldfish. He also had a feeling William was doing the same, if for completely different reasons.

Working his monologue to a poetic crescendo, Heero withdrew a stiletto from the folds of his shirt. "Here's to my Love!" he cried, raising the weapon above his head and driving it back swiftly. "O, true blacksmith: thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die," he finished dramatically, laying poor, bewildered Duo flat on the stage and insistently pressing their lips together in a fervent kiss.

The unfortunate Mercutio lay still under the onslaught, hoping to hell that the world retains some of its senses by the time he's awake. This was surreal. Everybody who was anybody in Sanq were watching as Heero dragged Shakespeare kicking and screaming out of the casket and murdered the poor man. Everybody was watching Romeo kiss the living – or dead, as it were – daylights out of Mercutio. **Relena** was watching Heero kiss the living daylight out of **him**.

He was so dead. They were dead. Romeo was dead.

The spectators sat in stunned silence, watching in total disbelief as Benvolio, with Juliet and the prince of Verona in tow, entered the stage and concluded the play.

The director sunk in his chair, whimpering pathetically. He was dead. As a doornail. Deader than a doornail. His namesake, William Shakespeare will be haunting him through the afterlife and beyond.

But then… a tentative sound of clapping reverberated throughout the audience, soon amplified by hundreds of hands clapping with vigour.

The curtain fell. The show was over.

xxxXXXxxx

"Are they gone yet?" Heero whispered to the nearest pair of legs. Himself, Juliet, the prince and Benvolio were hiding underneath the punch table at the grand reception, trying to avoid both William and, an additional bonus for Heero, Relena. The pair of legs belonged to a slightly disgruntled Duo.

"No. Stay and suffer," the sulking youth replied. "I can't believe you told me nothing!" he muttered. Heero, risking death from exposure, crawled out in his expensive tux and tugged the braid of his friend.

"Hey," he said. "I wanted it to be a surprise!"

"Oh, it was. No question about that," Duo pouted, looking away. "I can't believe you did that to me!"

"I am sorry, alright?"

"Oh, you will be sorry, alright," the longhaired man smiled wickedly. "Coz here comes Relena with William in tow." Indeed, the director – trying to look as if it wasn't him – was coming his way, a storm-cloud of pink at his side.

With a sharp hiss of his name, the two vultures pounced on the poor man. Hissing violently, both the theatre director and the princess expressed their displeasure with his actions and threatened bodily harm.

"Yuy! How could you! This is **Shakespeare**, you do not rewrite **Shakespeare**! How could you! And the play was cut almost in **half**! Yuy, this is **sacrilege**!" And so on, and so forth. Having been brought up in a family which regarded Stratford's William as the ultimate oracle of truth and beauty, Mr Henslow felt that an alternative universe in 'Romeo and Juliet' was almost as bad as 'Jesus: Revolutions' would be for a devout catholic.

"Heero! How could you! Kissing that, that… lowlife! And on the stage, no less! What will my friends think of me!" For Relena apparently the highlight of the show rested someplace else.

Their chorused protest was however interrupted, when one of the most respected Sanq editors joined the little group. "That was a spectacular performance, Mr Henslow," the man said earnestly. "I never thought one could squeeze so much out of the old tragedy in this day and age. I was, of course, also hoping for exclusive interviews with the cast and the director. In fact, I've already called one of my best photographers – does Monday morning sound like an acceptable date for a session in the theatre, Mr Henslow?" William hesitated.

"Uh… thank you. But it wasn't exactly-"

"Ah, no need to be modest right now. It was quite a brilliant twist, if I say so myself. Old Shakespeare might be a master in his field, but even his skill cannot save an audience from eventual boredom. Ah – and let me congratulate you on your choice of cast – the chemistry between the two pointed to such an ending right from the very beginning," the editor said, nodding wisely. "Congratulations on your performance, Mr Yuy. Most interesting Romeo I ever had the pleasure to see," the man added to the young Preventer. Heero grinned unnervingly as he nodded in thanks. "And of course Mr Maxwell – breathing fire into 16th century's lines! I daresay Shakespeare would be pleased."

"I am glad you are pleased with our performance, gentlemen," he said, the grin still in place, making use of William's total stupefaction. "I am afraid I must leave you now though."

Trying to make his way down to where he thought he had seen Duo, Heero was halted by a steel grip of a slender hand on his arm. "Where are you going, Heero?" Relena hissed through clenched teeth.

"That is no business of yours, Miss Peacecraft," Heero replied calmly. "Please let go of my arm, or I will cause a scene."

"Why are you doing this to me, Heero?" the woman asked, almost tearfully.

"Why are you doing this to yourself?" he asked back. "I never tried. You always assumed. I am sorry Relena. But I want him, not you. That's the truth." His gaze softened a little. "Don't think I do this out of spite. I do not." The woman's grip on his arm became almost painful, then surprisingly, loosened.

"I hate him," she whispered hotly. "I hate him. Why him and not me, Heero?"

"Why is a rose called a rose? That's just the way things are. Goodbye Relena," Heero smiled a little, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead and leaving.

"Goodbye Heero," the woman whispered softly, standing alone in the middle of the grand reception.

It might be worth noting that as Relena, feeling rather depressed, left the reception in favour of a balcony later on, she found a dark and handsome man lying flat on the marble. As she kneeled by him to check his vitals, he sprang up as if stung and with a hiss of 'Injustice', muffled by his own sleeve, disappeared in the crowd.

The next morning Wufei found a lot of body-guarding duty suddenly overriding his schedule.

But all that was still in the future, when Heero located his long-haired partner on the dance floor in the arms of Paris. Striding to the couple, he patted Duo on the shoulder gently.

"May I cut in?" he asked, eyes tearing the actor to pieces. Snatching the braid, he pulled the long-haired man into his arms, despite the feeble protests. The band started on a waltz.

"I'm still mad at you, Yuy," Duo said evenly.

"Mad that it wasn't your idea?"

"… that too."

"Are you mad about that kiss?"

"… yes."

"Would you be mad if I did it again?"

"Yes, damn it!" Duo hissed furiously, the two of them drawing the eyes of the crowd with yet another spectacular performance, this time on the marble dance floor.

"But I want to."

"But I fucking don't!"

"Don't you really?"

"…no."

"Good," Heero breathed, twirling his partner and just as the beat struck, dipped him low to the floor, pressing their lips together for the second time that day.

When Duo was finally back on his feet, in a tight circle of Heero's arms, he realized that virtually the whole ballroom was cheering them from the sides. The blue-eyed Preventer smirked at him. "You paint colours on my skies," he whispered rubbing their noses together, before he swooped in for yet another kiss.

A blooming sunset this evening brings;  
The sun, for night, will hide his shine.  
Go hence, to have more talk of all these things;  
Some will go on, some will end in a whine:  
For in this story a boy got a braided beau  
A boy named Heero caught himself a Duo.

**THE END**

The lyrics have been removed, after announced its new policy. Makes little to no sense to me, but hey, their funeral. I apologise.


End file.
